


Less Coffee, More Killing (sex and violence dub)

by Laylah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Sharing, Caliginous Romance, F/M, Minor Character Death, Ouroboros Mix, they fight crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your superiors think you are the best possible agent for the tough cases, and if they don't quite understand why you have, at your young age, enough skills for any two trolls—well. You tell yourselves that of course most people aren't clever enough to figure you out, and you try to be more smug than furious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Less Coffee, More Killing (sex and violence dub)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [graveExcitement (arachnids)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arachnids/gifts).
  * Inspired by [On Murders And The Nightly Ingestion of Coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/works/436536) by [graveExcitement (arachnids)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arachnids/pseuds/graveExcitement). 



Your names are Terezi Pyrope and Karkat Vantas, and you are the best legislacerator and the most frustrated kismeses in Her Imperious Condescension's service. You take your coffee black except when you drown it in milk and sugar, you prefer brains over brawn except when you wish you could have been famous for your melee skill, and you excel in slow games of strategy except when you just want to _cut the bullshit already_. Your superiors think you are the best possible agent for the tough cases, and if they don't quite understand why you have, at your young age, enough skills for any two trolls—well. You tell yourselves that of course most people aren't clever enough to figure you out, and you try to be more smug than furious. You're still working on that one.

* * *

_This was a terrible idea_ , Karkat complains, and not for the first time, as the scent of the lower-deck hangar bays becomes detectable.

_So stop me_ , Terezi answers, which is also becoming repetitive. Their cane hasn't touched the floor since they came out of the vertical transporter on the previous deck. She doesn't need it to get around anymore, but Karkat still relies on it when he's moving the body either because Terezi's asleep or because they're not in agreement about where they're going.

He doesn't take control, which is a lot like agreement where Karkat is concerned. All of the rules about knowing when to push your kismesis and when to back off get a lot more crucial once both parties occupy a single body. They have a job to do right now, and if they fight it'll be over who gets the job done better. Neither of them wants to fuck it up.

The hangar bay _should_ be empty at this hour, but they're betting it won't be. Terezi had the hunch. Karkat figured out the likely method. If their murder suspect wants to flee the long talon of the law, his best—possibly his _only_ —hope is to bail out tonight, during the brief window when the _Battleterror_ passes close enough to a colonized planet that an escape pod's air supply would last for the duration of the trip.

_Listen to you. "The long talon of the law." You make this sound like a terrible courtblock drama._

_A MAGNIFICENT courtblock drama_ , Terezi corrects. _Starring the most tenacious and also attractive legislacerator the Empire has ever seen._

_I'll give you tenacious_ , Karkat allows grudgingly as they creep toward the far end of the bay, beyond the rows of docked fighters, where the escape pods wait for deployment. _But we have no glutes to speak of, and I'm pretty sure a fine ass is a requirement to even get into the competition for 'most attractive.'_

_Poor Karkles. Is the coffee making you grouchy?_

_You know it makes me sick_ , he answers. _If you insist on—_

Movement up ahead, the shift of cloth and the bitter scent of fear. They both stop arguing, shifting into high alert, into stalking mode. They're going to catch this bastard, and they're going to make him pay. Or her. It could be a her. But two of the three suspects Terezi has in mind are hims, and one of them is Karkat's pick for the killer, so. Him it is.

Close enough now to catch his blood color, the muddy scent of olive. (Karkat was right: it's the jilted ex-auspistice.) Close enough to hear the panicky labor of his breathing—and the moment when it hitches as he realizes he's not alone.

"Second Lieutenant Halpir, you are under arrest," Terezi says brightly. "You have the right to present an argument in your defense. You have the right to request trial by combat."

"You're an idiot if you think I'm going anywhere with you," Halpir says. Not even asking what the charges are so he could try to deny it, what a shame. He can't be very clever. "You didn't even bring backup, and you think I'm going to just follow a little blind girl into custody like a bleatbeast to the slaughterhouse?"

Karkat bares all of their teeth in a nasty smile. This body has great teeth for that. "You have the right to trial by combat _right now_ , you festering shitheap."

Halpir snarls at them, and his knives make a grating chime as he draws them. Terezi twists their cane in half to bare the thin sharp blades concealed in it, dodging nimbly back from Halpir's first swipe. They sink into a sickle-fighting stance, going calm as they can, sharing as best they can. Karkat is the one with sweeps' worth of melee training. Terezi is the one with sweeps' worth of experience in getting around without needing to see.

"I'm going to gut you, you arrogant little bitch," Halpir growls.

Karkat's impulse is to yell back, but Terezi's impulse is to just laugh—and oh, that works beautifully, makes the hot spice of rage boil off him so he's clumsier and even easier to track. Halpir lunges again. Karkat deflects the nearer knife with one blade and slips the other under Halpir's guard to rip a long, shallow gash in his side.

"Too slow and too stupid," Terezi pronounces as Karkat turns them on their heel. "I don't know how you got this far in the first place!"

Blood sings in their veins, the thrill of the fight, the thrill of _winning_. They can taste Halpir's panic on the air with the spill of his blood, sharpening their senses further. Halpir tries instinctively to stanch the bleeding, pressing a hand to his side, leaving him open for a slash across the face. He howls, lashing out wildly, so easy to dodge.

_It's a stabbing weapon_ , Terezi prompts drily.

"Fuck," Karkat bites out, and thrusts straight into Halpir's unprotected gut. They take a shallow slice across the forearm but it's too little too late on Halpir's part, his abdomen ripping open with the force of the gouge-twist- _pull_ that applies sickle techniques to a straight blade with a messy but effective degree of success.

Halpir collapses in a slow-motion heap, the scent of blood and ruptured digestive tract overwhelming anything else they could smell right now. "The court finds you guilty of murder!" Terezi announces. "Your surviving quadrantmates, if any, will be notified of your sentencing."

_He's already dead, isn't he?_ Karkat asks.

_Or very close_ , Terezi agrees. _But it's important to do these things properly._

They stand there for a few more seconds, taking in the scene, trying to pay attention to the cues underlying the smells of quick and violent death. It's hard. The fire of combat adrenaline is still in the body's system, and they're each replaying the scene in their head: Karkat can't stop thinking about the easy confidence of moving without needing to see, and Terezi keeps coming back to the smooth, certain strikes of the kill. It's distracting. It's compelling.

_We should—_ Karkat starts.

_Find an ablution block in a hurry_ , Terezi finishes, and starts for the door to the hangar immediately. Karkat doesn't answer that, and she giggles. _Not going to argue? I'm surprised._

Karkat snorts. _Yeah, well, it's my nook too._

Terezi misses a step at that and then tries to pretend she didn't. Karkat doesn't call her on it. They're both...still adjusting.

The ablution block isn't far off, thank fuck. They duck into the first stall and slam the privacy divider shut, fumbling for a second as they both try to go for the fastenings on their uniform but start at different places. A deep breath, and then Karkat lets Terezi take the lead on that, waiting until she's gotten the jacket off and the leggings down.

She wraps a hand around their bulge, and he shoves three fingers up their nook. They hiss at the sting, at how quick and rough the handling is. _This is ridiculous_ , Karkat growls. _Gagging for it, jerking off on the load gaper like a desperate adolescent._

_You'd know what that's like, wouldn't you?_ Terezi asks. She turns her head to the side and bites their shoulder, a little jolt of pain that makes their nook clench and their bulge stiffen.

_Please. Like you didn't have your share of dry spells._ Karkat twists his fingers, his claws scraping a teasing threat, and the choked moan could belong to either of them. _But now we're both stuck with each other, aren't we?_

Terezi squeezes their bulge harder. _Good thing I hate you best_ , and for now she gets the last word, as the body hits climax and gushes into the bowl in a wrenching, sloppy flood.

They sprawl there panting for breath for one delicious, sated moment, letting their guard down as much as they ever dare. Then Karkat hauls them up, still pantsless, to stagger to the sink and wash the mess off their hands. He gets the distance right, doesn't run their hips into the porcelain at all. He's learning.

* * *

Your names are Terezi Pyrope and Karkat Vantas, and you are the scourge of lawbreakers everywhere, or at least on board the _Battleterror_. You are going to report to your commanding officer, file all of the necessary paperwork (there isn't much, when your body is tealblooded and the criminal was lower than that), and be excused from duty at the end of the night. You are going to go back to your quarters and do things that would make more decorous trolls blush furiously, until you have thoroughly worn each other out.

You hate each other dearly, and you're learning to like this life.


End file.
